Thanks
by Sukechan
Summary: This is A Bit cunfusing and a bit AU, well yah its AU defin-et-ly well read at your own will


Hi I'm very new to writing fanfiction. However, I am not new to writing in general, nor am I a novice when it comes to reading fanfiction. After All I have spent the last 3 years reading Fanfiction and ignoring everything else. Which explains my grades, Thus explaining why I'm Hardly on any more. Lastly it is important to me to let you now that my story thing that I started has been lost. And I am very (*SOB*) sorry for not being a good update person. (*SOB*) So in conclusion, and if anyone asks, or mildly wonders: Yes not beeing on much is tearing me apart, Yes I'm a slow Typer and Yes I know I'm bad at grammar and spelling. Thank you very much if you took the time to read this. I know it is short, but one has to work up Right. So to all who read this no madder if you like or hate or if you are just indifferent about it, May you be praised by many dancing Chibi's and several drunk dirty Mexicans who speak Japanese with a German accent give you many bad pick up lines and dance on bar stools for you. Thank you for your Time.  
  
Disclaimer: I own no thing. Digimon would have had a great number of Yaoi parings involving Daisuke and HHMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMMM... But sadly I don't. But I can Dream. All right my spelling mistakes are increasing and my sense is dwindling. Tank TO.  
  
Thanks By Suke-chan By the way. This is not said, But It is from Daisuke's point of view, and "Friend number one" is Ken. " Friend number 2" is Hikari. and " Friend Number 3" is Takaru. ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~  
It rained the day I was born. That's what they tell me when I ask about my birth. They say it as though god was saying sorry to them for having me. I don't mind that, don't get me wrong, I am thankful for them. I just don't know them, and they don't now me either.  
  
Theirs something wrong with my heart. That's what the doctors tell me, I see them weekly. They say it's a miracle that I'm even alive. I was supposed to die three years ago. It's like they set a timer, just for me, and it's set to go off any minute now. But that's just my life. It's just life.  
  
My teacher knows about this. My parents thought that I'd be a good idea. I mean if my timer warns me I could let her now. I haven't told my friends yet. I don't know how they'd react.  
  
It's a Monday class ends in thirty minutes. The teacher is lecturing about negatives and positives. What is a positive divided by a negative? That kind of stuff. When it happens. I can feel my timer running low.  
  
I tell my teacher it's happing. I'm not sure if she heard. Then I feel someone at my side. I look at them; it's my friend. I want to ask him what he's doing, but tears just slide down my face. I can't even whisper theirs so much pain. It hurts so much.  
  
He tells me he'll help me to the clinic. He's pale, but I think I'm paler. When we get to the hall he asks what's happening. I face him as much as I can, and in that moment I wish I told him a long time ago about my heart. His eyes are panicked. He wants to help me.  
  
I ask him to help me outside. At first he's unsure, he asks about the clinic and I tell him it won't help. When he agrees and where outside, he asks me why I wanted to come out here. I couldn't look at him. I tried but I couldn't. I tell him that I didn't want to die inside of a school.  
  
I look up at the classroom window as he tries to figure out what I meant. I see my teacher. She takes her glasses of and wipes her eyes. I wave goodbye to her as I start walking torwards the park. I can picture what she's doing in my head. I can see her crying; I can see the class hesitating. I can see friend number 2 ask her what's happening. That's what number 2 is like. Nice and considerate. I now what the teacher will say.  
  
She'll say that it's always sad to lose a student. I can see the class look confused. I can see friend number three ask if I'm all right. That's how three is, always curious. I can see the teacher sitting down. She'd say something like I had a time limit. That my soul is strong (she told me that my soul was the strongest she's ever seen), but my heart was weak. Some times the heart is weaker then the soul.  
  
As I get to the park, I direct him where to go. When we get there he says the place is beautiful. It is theirs a willow tree surrounded by a little moat. It's very secluded. I remember when I found it. I fell of the jungle gym bars and started balling. I ran wherever I could and stumbled in here. (I think I ran into a tree too). The memory is faint. Everything seems faint.  
  
He asks me what's going on. So I tell him, I tell him everything. I tell him about my heart, I tell him about my limit, I tell him about my clock, and I tell him about my timer. He's hurt. He's angry. He's yelling and crying. He tells me he loves me. He asks me not to die. Then he starts rambling about modern medicine, medication, check ups. When he mentions the breathing machine I stop him. I put a finger over his lips. I tell him that I don't want that. Why delay the inevitable.  
  
Then all at once it goes off, my timer stops. I can faintly here him scream, I can faintly hear my friends coming. They're telling me that they love me, that they want me to stay. I'm gasping for air. I whisper that I love them too, it was so hard but I did it. And as I pass away with my friends around me, I can tell that it's raining. At that moment I understand it all. That God wasn't saying sorry to my parents when I was born, but he was saying sorry to me. I whisper something as my last breath passes. I say; Thanks. 


End file.
